


===>Karkat: Hate Your Matesprit (For Now)

by HowDoYouHomesmut (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Xenobiology, slightly OOC, this is the first time i've written smut don't hurt me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/HowDoYouHomesmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is just GamKar smut. What else is there to say?</p><p>(Other than this girl cannot title.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	===>Karkat: Hate Your Matesprit (For Now)

**Author's Note:**

> Um. This is literally the first time I've ever written smut so please don't kill me. How do you title things.

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you have no fucking clue what’s going on. 

Well, you do, but you don’t want to admit it. You are lying flat on your back on a couch near John’s respiteblock, shirtless, with your moirail smattering your neck with kisses and love-bites. The noises coming out of your mouth are imperatively humiliating. Gamzee is ridiculously skilled with that tongue, and the things he is doing to you feel so good it should be illegal.

He leans up to attack the hem of your jeans, and you take a minute to admire the larger troll above you. His slender body is packed with lean, smooth muscle, and your hands consistently find purchase on his hips and abdomen. While his lean structure is similar to yours, he has a good foot of height on you, maybe a foot and a half. A hot breath runs across your chest, and you can no longer focus.

“Motherfucker, you aren’t holding back on me, are you?”

“No-oooooohh...” he flicks a hand across your crotch, and you lose the rest of your sentence. If you had finished, you would have lied. Like hell anyone was going to hear you screaming and moaning under his touch. At least you hoped.

“I know you are, bro. Now then, don’t do that.” his hands crept lower and then higher, hitching on the hem of your jeans and pulling them off swiftly; quickly followed by his own. 

“Gam, I swear to God, quit fucking around and get on with it!” you scream, breath hitching in your throat as he smothers your neck in kisses again. He’s being gentle, and you know to enjoy it while you can. But god dammit he’s taking his sweet time.

You grab him by the shoulders and yank him to you for a hard kiss, melting under him as he takes control. Your breathing becomes erratic and shallow, and those hips grinding against yours are too good to be true. 

Suddenly, all of the pressure and warmth are away from your body and you chirp loudly, the needy noise clawing its way out of your throat. “Gamzee...” you moan, turning to find him standing near the couch. He drops his boxers and climbs back atop of you.

“Gotta get these clothes off, Kar. Motherfuckin’ uncomfortable.” He wastes no time in yanking yours off as well, nails scraping the inside of your thighs, making you keen. Flush red flies to your skin, and you curse aloud.

“Karbro, I am motherfuckin’ done bein’ gentle with you.” 

Gamzee’s hand finds its way quickly to the entrance of your nook and you arch your hips into the touch, only to be forced back down.

“Now Kar, you have to be fuckin’ patient.” One of his hands continues to tease your nook, while the other pins your hips to the couch. You chew on your lip until you taste iron and copper, and even then you don’t let go of the noises fighting to be made. You refuse to allow him the satisfaction. Stupid cocky bastard.

He pressed against your hip insistently, slowly driving you to the edge of insanity. What was this, ‘Drive Karkat Batshit Up The Fucking Belfry’ Day?!

“Gamzee. Fucking. Makara.” you hissed, teeth clenched against sounds that could potentially embarrass you later. He looked up at you, cutting his ministrations off completely. You whined, the sound pulling away from you against your will. He chuckled.

“Someone’s a bit impatient today.” he mused, slowly dragging a claw down your side. Reflex kicks in, and you arc into the touch only to be forced back down by a rough shove. You growled, the sound low and rumbly in your chest.

“Gamzee. I swear to FUCKING GOG that if you do not HURRY UP I will leave RIGHT NOW.” you said, language slipping from English to Alternian. The look you receive is positively chilling, as are his hands. 

“You know what I want, Karkles. And you know that once I get it I’ll give you what you want. So, it’s kinda your motherfuckin’ fault.” he smirks at you and slowly drags a finger across the opening of your nook again. You give out a small squeak.

“Fuck no.” you say through gritted teeth. Despite your best efforts, he’s winning. As usual. Stupid fucker.

You allow a low whine to escape yourself and he finally gets on with it. He runs a hand along your thigh tantalizingly slowly. You let your head fall back to look away, and finally let go of everything you’ve been holding back. 

Gamzee—the stupid, glorious bastard—gave you no warning at all. He bit down hard on your hipbone, and brought his hips to yours in a fluid motion. For someone so lanky, he was agile. He looked down at you, hints of incandescent red blood on his lips.

“That what you wanted, Kar?” he said, voice flowing and low. The only response you could muster was a slight nod and a short chirp. 

Maybe you had a little thing for pain. Only a little! Dammit. 

Another long rake of claws down your sides drew more moans from low in your throat. Every touch sent burning ice through your veins, and mixed with the fast pace Gamzee was setting you could tell you wouldn’t last long. 

He dragged you to the edge of insanity before throwing you back by slowing nearly to a stop. He had some kind of weird knowledge of when you were just that close. A mix of Alternian and English curses fell from your lips and you forced yourself to look at him.

Hazy eyes met yours, and you were crushed straight back down with a heated kiss as he started back up again.

Apparently, he didn’t have much left in him either. He clenched his fists around your shoulders, his claws digging in nearly to the point of pain. A shudder ran through him and a cold burn set through your middle. 

One more twitch of his hands, and you were gone. Lost in waves of bliss, you fell limp; weakly aware of a taller, heavier body on top of your own.

“Get off...” you mumbled, rolling onto your side to accommodate him anyway. He was often annoying and crazy, but he was your matesprit. 

“C’mon Kar... You know I like to cuddle.” he said, crushing you to him. God. You couldn’t catch a break with his moods today. 

 

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you probably owed one John Egbert a new couch. And floor. And, well... Yeah. Stupid fucker.


End file.
